


Damsel in Distress

by yodepalma



Series: Schmoopfest 2016 [5]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Don't Examine This Too Closely, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, M/M, One Shot, Schmoop, nothing graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 04:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6224743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy's not a damsel, but he is in distress. He can probably handle it, but why bother?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damsel in Distress

**Author's Note:**

> I CHANGED MY MIND I'M POSTING IT
> 
> listen i just have a thing for ed saving roy's life ok
> 
> This entire story was the fault of my 3am brain being rudely waken up (don’t ask) and imagining Roy saying “I’m a damsel. I’m in distress. I can handle it.” I mean, he doesn’t handle it, but isn’t that what he has Ed (and Riza) for anyway?

_Damsel in Distress_

Roy wondered idly if his captors knew who he'd been dating recently. He figured it couldn't be too likely, really—he knew of more than a few kidnap attempts that had fallen through before they'd even gotten started when people discovered that they'd have to keep him from the inestimable Riza Hawkeye, and he didn't think they'd be any more eager to go up against the Fullmetal Alchemist. And he was at least eighty percent certain that this was a group who'd taken one look at Riza’s track record for saving her boss and decided that they'd like to live another day, thanks.

But Riza had finally decided to take a vacation, deeming Edward to be “probably good enough to keep the General alive for a few weeks” (a review of his talents that would have gotten anybody else alchemically chained to the radiator for a few hours...or days), and it seemed like one of the old crowd had finally decided that this was their moment to shine.

Roy really wished they wouldn't have. He'd had plans for the weekend, most of which admittedly involved Roy's bedroom and the various exciting possibilities therein, and while those plans would have left him sore it would have been a much more pleasant experience than his current predicament.

“I wonder,” he started with bland curiosity as one of his interchangeable and not very inventive torturers entered the room, “What precisely do you hope to gain from this? You can't possibly think you’ll hold me long enough to get the information you need.”

“Oh, I think we can keep your bodyguard out of town for long enough to loosen your tongue,” a dark voice said, and a person Roy hadn't yet seen entered the room. His stance screamed ex-military, but Roy didn't recognize him or the mass of scars that disfigured half of his face. “And then at least we can get this country back onto the glorious track you carelessly derailed it from, traitor.”

“You must have been one of Bradley’s old supporters,” Roy mused. “Before I joined, maybe? There's always some skirmish or another, you could have been injured anywhere.”

The man smiled grimly, but offered nothing.

“I'm not here to answer any of your questions, Mustang,” he said. “You're here to answer mine.”

“Ah, but—and this is terribly important—how long would you say I've been held here for?” Roy asked.

The man—Roy was just going to call him Scarface for now, it had a nice ring to it—gave him a long, blank look.

“How long since you've been kidnapped?” he asked, sounding so baffled Roy had to hide a delighted grin. “Or—”

“In this building,” Roy clarified. “Locked up and being badly tortured in one spot.”

Scarface narrowed his one remaining eye. “Several hours by now,” he said. “Late enough even the criminals are asleep, as they say.”

Roy briefly toyed with the idea of suggesting they move him just to drive Ed up a wall when he had to chase them down, but decided it wasn't worth it. The weekend was wasting.

“Oh, good,” he said instead. “Carry on then.”

“ _Really?_ ” an annoyed voice said, and Scarface and his minion looked up as a clap echoed and alchemy created a hole in the vent above them. The looks on their faces were comical as Ed dropped from the ceiling, still wearing most of the suit he'd put on to go out to dinner in, and leveled Roy with an exasperated glare. “That's it? ‘Thanks for the info, please continue with the torture’? The fuck did I bother coming to save you for if you're enjoying yourself so much?”

“I am _extremely_ pleased to see you, darling,” Roy said. “And the other option was to suggest they move me because I knew you were coming, but I'm afraid I didn't have the heart to keep the charade up any longer.” Ed’s glare didn't waver. “Also, have I mentioned how lovely you look tonight? Especially dropping from the ceiling to rescue me like the poor, helpless, useless damsel in distress that I am?”

“You and I are going to have _words_ , Mustang,” Ed said, and Roy winced. Perhaps the damsel in distress bit had been too much.

“What the hell is going on here?” Scarface finally yelled, and Ed turned away from Roy with obvious reluctance. The minion was apparently brighter than he looked, and had already fled the scene. “And who _are_ you, boy?”

Roy stared, and a slow grin spread over Ed’s face.

“Man,” he said. “What rock did _you_ crawl out from under?”

He made really quite distressingly short work of Scarface, then turned to Roy and released him from the restraints that were keeping him in the chair. Ed poked at Roy’s ripped up uniform with a scowl, his gloves coming away with still-fresh blood, but when Roy made a move to comfort him he took a big step backwards and glared. Roy's heart dropped alarmingly.

“We gotta get out of here,” Ed muttered, and Roy didn't miss the way his hands shook as he raised them to clap and change his automail into his usual blade. “Don't do anything fucking stupid. I didn't have much time to scout, but I'm pretty sure most of the house is asleep.”

Roy followed Ed silently, his heart beating in his chest far more than the situation warranted. This wasn't the first time he'd escaped a kidnapping, and honestly at this point it was pretty much routine, but he was rather put-out by Ed’s strangeness tonight. Everything had been going so well—or at least he'd thought it had been—but Ed just wasn't acting like himself. Were they going to break up? Had there been signs that Ed was discontent and Roy had missed them and now his casual attitude during a kidnapping meant Ed had finally decided that it was over?

It was a good thing that few people were awake and Ed was more than capable of taking care of the ones who got in the way, because Roy didn't remember a moment of walking through what turned out to be one of the older mansions. Nor did he remember the moonlit trek across the grounds, at least not until they caught sight of the cop cars and ambulance, and a group of EMTs dashed out to bundle Roy up and take him to the hospital.

“Ed—” Roy said, a reflex, half turning to him as they were jostled apart.

“I'm going with him!” Ed snarled to the unfriendly-looking cop holding onto his arm. “I don't give a _shit_ about your questions, he's my— _say that the fuck again, asshole_!”

Roy grabbed the arm of the nearest EMT. “Ed comes with me,” he said urgently, trying to ignore his boyfriend threatening the police officer in the background. “And if the sergeant doesn't like it, remind him that whatever I look like right now I'm still a Brigadier General, with all the attached trouble that infers.”

It took a few long minutes, but finally they were back with Ed in all of his fury climbing into the ambulance with them. He squeezed into a corner out of the way, muttering under his breath, and Roy craned his neck in the hope of catching his eyes.

“You're gonna get a fucking crick in your neck doing that,” Ed finally looked at him with a half a smile, and ruffled Roy's hair with his left hand. Roy usually hated when Ed did that, because it messed up his hair, but it couldn't get much worse right now so he didn't complain. “You okay?”

“I want to kiss you,” Roy said, surprising himself, but decided to roll with it. “I want to go back to the beginning of this night and skip whatever got me kidnapped and take you out to dinner and start our weekend in bed the way it should have started.”

“I did not sign up for this shit,” the male EMT muttered, which of course made Ed blush.

“Then mind your own fucking business,” he snarled.

“How am I supposed to ignore it when you're literally half a foot in front of my face?” the EMT snarled back.

“Edward, dear, please don't rile up the nice professional patching up my torture wounds,” Roy murmured, giving the EMT in question a smile that made him blush too.

Roy could feel Ed looming closer, the hand in his hair moving to the back of his neck and turning possessive, and he could only imagine the look that must be on his face to make the fiery EMT blanch visibly and return pointedly to work.

“Keep on flirting with the EMTs, jackass,” Ed growled. “For all the fucking good it'll do you when I'm through with you.”

Roy could feel his smile turn smug and he turned his head to find, as he'd suspected, that if he tilted it backwards and stretched just so he could barely press the lightest of butterfly kisses into Ed's throat.

“I love you,” he breathed softly, and waited patiently as the world seemed to hold its breath for the longest half second of his life.

“I love you too, you _moron_ ,” Ed said, voice watery, and kissed him brief and awkward at a bad angle. “And if you ever get yourself kidnapped again I'm going to fucking kill you.”

Which was a fine note to pull up to the hospital on, of course. They wheeled Roy out of the ambulance and into the ER with far too much efficiency, considering how quickly he was separated from Ed, but he still found it hard to stop smiling.

He was safe, he was mostly healthy, he was in love, and his very young, very attractive, very dangerous boyfriend had just saved his life and admitted to loving him back. All in all, life was good.

**Author's Note:**

> I sincerely hope nobody is expecting any sort of background information on the AU or Scarface and his minions because all I've got is that Scarface is the hermit patriarch of one of the old military families, and he hasn't actually been keeping up with the news since he left the military. He started paying attention again when Bradley died....
> 
> Anyway, if somebody wants to steal him and make him a competent villain, I'd be tickled pink. <3


End file.
